


Tossed Salad and Scrambled Seattle

by spikewriter



Category: Frasier - Fandom
Genre: Challenge Response, Disaster cliches, Disasters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-27
Updated: 2004-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikewriter/pseuds/spikewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is ending. This doesn't mean the Crane Brothers will stop arguing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tossed Salad and Scrambled Seattle

**"Stormy Weather"**

 

_"Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky..."_

 

"As much as I appreciate the genius of Lena Horne, don't you think a weather-themed track is a bit cliché?"

The waitress at the Cafe Nervosa blinked. "I don't choose the music."

"Well, express my opinion to the manager, will you?"

Frasier shook his head as the waitress shrugged and made her escape. "It's shameful, Roz. We used to have higher standards of service."

"Oh, I don't know. I've had one or two waitress jobs in my life and I remember feeling like that sometimes."

"I rest my case."

Roz glared at him, not that it was going to do any good. Frasier was in a cranky mood, as was pretty much everyone else in the City of Seattle since the rains had started. The cafe, normally a place of cheery conversation, seemed dull and depressed, the weather being the main topic of conversation.

There was a bit of a scuffle at the door, several people trying to come out as someone was trying to come in and Niles finally popped through, looking more than a little damp. "I swear, I'm beginning to think that perhaps I should buy stock in the newest model of the Ark." He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and spread it over the empty chair at Frasier's table. "I could see the animals lining up two by two."

"It is rather disturbing weather is it not? Want something, Niles?"

"Thank you, Frasier. Oh, miss? Double cappuccino with a twist, please."

"The reports over the wire are more than just disturbing -- snow in New York, tornadoes in Los Angeles...it almost sounds like the world is ending."

Frasier snorted. "Please, Roz. You sound like one of those dreadful summer blockbusters that rot the mind of the public. You know the ones, Niles; some phenomenon that could never actually occur mysteriously comes to pass happens unexpectedly when no one heeds the scientist's warnings."

"And everybody dies...except for the dog, of course. The dog always lives." At Frasier's look, Niles explained. "Daphne had a craving for that type of film one weekend; I think it reminded her of her brothers. Anyway, there's a new one coming out Memorial Day weekend and both she and Dad want to go see it."

"I think you're both treating this too lightly," Roz complained. "There's some serious stuff going on. Didn't you hear the report about the car getting swept off the road?"

"Yes," Niles said, "but it was only a Hyundai."

Roz glared. "I wasn't joking."

"Neither was I. Dreadful little cars."

Frasier chuckled. Niles cappuccino arrived and he sipped at it. "I do wish the rain would end, though, or at least retreat to normal levels. It makes getting Daphne in and out of the car somewhat difficult. Think beached whale."

"And how is Daphne doing?" Frasier asked, the image coming all too easily to him.

"She's over at your place, visiting with Dad. It's good for both of them, since they're pretty much housebound with this weather."

Frasier's cell phone trilled and he excused himself to answer. "Frasier Crane."

The intense and intensely annoying voice of Bebe, his agent came crackling over the line. "Frasier? Oh, thank god it's you."

"What's wrong, Bebe?"

"The water -- it's rising. I swear I'm going to drown in just a few minutes. But that wasn't why I was calling you. I've got someone interested in syndicating your show."

"Really?" Turning his head back to Roz and Niles, he couldn't resist saying, "Bebe may have found someone who's interested in putting me into syndication."

Roz and Niles made impressed noises. "Frasier, talk to me," Bebe demanded. "My feet are getting wet."

"I'm back."

"I'll make this quick. It's just what you've been waiting for, Frasier, the break you need. We're talking big, mega big. We're talking Clear...oh, my god! Noooo!"

There was a thunderous crash on the other end of line and then the connection went dead.

Frasier stared at the phone, then began trying Bebe's number again. "I think something's happened to her."

"Did she at least tell you who was interested?" Niles asked.

"No, damnit."

 

****

**"Two by Two"**

 

"Isn't this rain ever going to stop?"

From the depths of the couch, Daphne told Martin, "Grammy Moon used to tell me when I was a little girl that rain was God's tears when I did something particularly naughty."

"Well, whatever you did this time. It was a doozy."

Daphne laughed as Martin settled into his old green chair and reached for the remote control. "It was just a fairy story, Martin; something to keep me in line."

"Yeah, but something's up. Rain like this -- it's not natural." He turned on the television and flipped up to CNN. "Look at that; the weather's crazy all over the country."

They stared at the TV for several minutes, looking up only when Frasier and Niles, soaked to skin stumbled through the door. "If it was meant to rain this much, we would have been born with fins," Frasier proclaimed.

"The only question is whether or not it'd be attractive," Niles said looking down at his shoes with despair. "I'm afraid these are a loss."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry we had to abandon the Mercedes. A little something about the wheels not touching the ground because of the water."

"Niles, are you alright?" Daphne asked, trying to lever herself from the couch without much success until Niles moved to help her.

"What happened?" Martin demanded. "You two look like a couple of drowned rats."

"We nearly are. We had to evacuate Cafe Nervosa and Roz went to get her daughter. It's raining something dreadful out there. I was on the phone with Bebe and..." Frasier's voice cracked. "I few she may have been washed away by the storm."

"And without telling him who was interested in syndicating his radio show," Niles added.

"I think it may have been Clear Channel," Frasier said. "The last thing she said was "clear" -- well, before the scream, of course."

"That's awful." Daphne embraced Niles as best she could, given her swollen stomach. "Maybe it is some natural disaster."

"At the very least, the first floor is going to be flooded out; we had to wade to get into the building."

Martin, followed by Eddie, moved over to the balcony as quickly as he could, peering cautiously over the edge to avoid getting wet. "God, the whole street's flooded. I mean seriously. It's like a river down there."

The others rushed to join him, all peering over the side. "You know this means we're trapped," Niles said.

Frasier shrugged. "We have food, we have family, and we can play music to soothe our wait."

"Ooh, shall we do a Wagner Festival?"

As Daphne and Martin groaned, Frasier agreed. "Sounds delightful."

The lights went out. "Or perhaps we won't."

***

Several hours later, they were sitting around by candle light, the rain having not abated one whit. "I'm starting to become worried," Daphne complained. "All this time and we haven't heard anything."

"Yes," Niles agreed. "It's amazing you haven't heard your upstairs neighbors doing the hoe-down."

"It was Slovakian clog dancing and they very kindly agreed to stop."

"It can't be that serious," Martin said, reaching out to pat Daphne's hand reassuringly. "If it was, they'd have helicopters out trying to evacuate people from buildings."

Almost instantaneously, there was the sound of a helicopter and a bullhorn calling, "Is anybody in there?"

Eddie tried to hide his face under his paw.

Everyone scrambled toward the balcony as the voice continued, "If you're inside, come to the window or the balcony. We are going to attempt a rescue."

Looking down, they realized the water had risen to the height of not just the first floor, but the second as well...and was clearly still rushing upward. They started waving frantically at the large helicopter that was hovering outside. "We're going to shoot you a line. When you catch it, you will need to secure it to something strong; _not_ the balcony railing."

"The column," Frasier said. "That's secure."

"Stand against the walls. It's coming over."

The first line was fired over via harpoon, followed by the second. Frasier winced at the breaking of the sliding door, but he and Niles grabbed the ropes and secured them to the column inside. Once that was done, a harness was slid down the ropes. "I suggest you let the lady go first. Put the harness on and climb onto the railing."

"Oh, you must be joking. In my condition? I can barely get myself off the couch, much less climb up on a railing."

"I'm not joking, lady. It's that or drown. Seattle's going to be under water soon."

"Please, Daphne," Niles begged. "Think of the baby. It can't be that..."

He glanced over the edge at the river below them. "Maris?"

The others looked. "My god, I wouldn't have believed she would float. Certainly not with her minimal body fat."

"Are you sure that's Maris and not a branch?" Frasier asked.

"Too skinny to be a branch. Besides, you can see the breasts...she had a boob job! That must be what's keeping her afloat."

Daphne put on the harness. "You've convinced me; I wouldn't want to find myself in the same water as yer ex."

Niles fluttered, but Daphne got safely away and into the arms of the men in the chopper. "Send the old guy over next."

Martin grumbled, but put on the harness they'd sent back. "Eddie? Where's Eddie?"

"Dad, you can't be..."

"Eddie!"

Eddie came, jumping into Martin's arms and shivering as they made the short journey. The water had reached the third floor now and at this rate, it wouldn't be long before it flooded the fourth. The harness was sent back a third time, and the two Crane brothers were faced with the decision of which would go first and which would wait and be the last, possibly risking drowning in the rising waters. "You go," Frasier insisted. "You're the married man and you've got a baby on the way."

"But you're the oldest; it's only right that you should go first."

"Damn it, Niles. I'm being serious. I don't want to die, but let's face it, you've got Daphne and the baby and your whole life ahead of you...your whole middle age ahead of you. It'd be selfish of me to have you risk all that just so I could be safe."

"And isn't it selfish of you to want to play the martyr so you can have the satisfaction of knowing you were ready sacrifice yourself for me?"

"This isn't about that!"

"No? Your deep-seated emotional need to always be first?"

"If we're talking about deep-seated emotional needs..."

"Can you talk about it later?" came a voice from the helicopter's bullhorn. "It's getting hard to hold this thing in place. We need to move."

Frasier and Niles looked sheepish and Frasier indicated the harness. Niles picked it up, then embraced his brother. No words were spoken as he strapped himself in and was hauled over to the helicopter. Once he was there, he stripped the harness off as quickly as he could so it could be sent back a final time.

Just as Frasier reached for it, the helicopter bucked with a sudden updraft and he nearly lost his balance, grabbing onto the balcony railing to keep himself from falling. The water was rising at an amazing rate now, mere feet away. "Hurry!" came the call. "We don't know how long we can hold it."

With an expression of grim determination, Frasier strapped himself in. Taking one last glance back at the apartment he'd loved for so many years, he saw that the water had begun to creep in. Soon, all his things would be underwater. More cries and he looked toward the helicopter and realized those things didn't really matter. Besides, at least his father's chair would be gone forever.

Slowly, the men in the helicopter began to pull Frasier over, Daphne, Niles and Martin watching nervously. The wind was getting worse now, making the transfer difficult, the water below them whipping up into waves. On more than one occasion, the helicopter bucked, leaving Frasier dangling perilously in the air as the water came up and up.

Then, a great gust of wind, the helicopter bucked...and the rope snapped.

Frasier was plunged into the swirling flood, struggling to stay afloat, the only thing saving him at the moment being the flotation panels built into the harness he was wearing. "You've got to save him!" Daphne cried.

"We'll try, but..." The helicopter bucked again.

The helicopter tried to move lower, but the water began to churn even more violently and they were forced to pull up. The apartment had flooded now, objects floating through the broken sliding doors and into the main current...including one very familiar green striped cushion. "It must be all the duct tape," Martin said. "It's made it waterproof."

"Frasier! Grab the cushion!" Niles shouted. In response to Frasier waving his arms frantically, he continued, “I know it's appalling, but you need to grab it."

Another updraft and the helicopter bucked violently. "We've got to go!" the pilot shouted. "This is too rough. If we can, we'll send someone back for him."

The helicopter pulled away, leaving Daphne, Niles, Martin and Eddy clinging to one another as the sad sight of Frasier, clinging to the green stripped cushion, receded in the distance.

 

****

**"The Day After Tomorrow"**

 

They were never sure how Frasier survived the ordeal...or made to Cancun where Niles had set up a thriving practice catering to those who were suffering psychological after effects of the disaster. But survive he did, wandering into town some four months after they had last seen him bobbing in the raging river Seattle had become. He never was the same, quieter and more thoughtful now, helping Niles manage the practice and taking on one or two clients but generally staying away from psychiatry.

The only exception was when he'd wander down to the beach and sit on the warm sand. There, holding fast to a tattered piece of green stripped acrylic fabric studded with pieces of duct tape, he'd speak to imaginary callers and dispense advice to the gulls.

 

_Hey baby I hear the blues a-callin  
Tossed salad and scrambled eggs (mercy) and,  
Baby, I seem a bit confused,  
Yeah maybe, but I got you pegged (ha ha ha), but  
I don't know what to do with those  
Tossed salads and scrambled eggs.  
They're calling again._

_Frasier has left the building!_

**Author's Note:**

> This has to count as possibly the strangest piece of fic I've ever written and I'm still not sure why the muse decided to beat me about the head and shoulders until I gave in and sat down to write it. 
> 
> Originally done in 2004 for the "Day After Tomorrow" ficathon on LJ, the warped brainchild of [](http://anniesj.livejournal.com/profile)[**anniesj**](http://anniesj.livejournal.com/) and [](http://miggy.livejournal.com/profile)[**miggy**](http://miggy.livejournal.com/). Sadly, the master list is no longer available.
> 
> Dedicated to the memory of David Angell, without whom we would not have enjoyed the Crane Brothers.


End file.
